


In the Exhaustion, There Is Only You

by Shejo



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Trans Character, Dirty Talk, F/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 01:04:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13423443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shejo/pseuds/Shejo
Summary: Reaper training is hard on the old flesh prison. Why not relieve it with a little bit of you?





	In the Exhaustion, There Is Only You

**Author's Note:**

> As always, this is for my beautiful girlfriend.

It’s been a long day for Barry and Lup that much is certain as they flop onto their shared king-sized, four-poster bed. After decades of being squeezed on the twin beds of the _Starblaster_ , the amount of space is welcome.

Lup groans as her body hits the mattress beside him with a soft poof! from the rustic down comforter she insisted she had to have when she began designs for their new home.

“I may have underestimated Krav-Krav,” she says, and Barry gives a grunt of acknowledgment from his spot next to her.  

“I just thought, maybe, my brother’s penchant for _non-threatening_ twunks would, you know, still be a thing?”

Another noncommittal noise rumbles from Barry. He enjoyed the more intellectual parts of reaper training—the lectures, the reading material. The physical parts, well, he just wished he could’ve had a post-Hunger vacation before they started this new occupation of theirs. Something to relax the mind and body after running for so long.

Her hand is on his back now and dances from the nape of his neck to the hem of his shirt where she lets her fingers sneak underneath. “Poor thing,” she whispers.

Barry turns his head towards her voice, but doesn’t open his eyes. Her hands feel amazing on him, and he makes sure she knows it in the way he vocalizes his appreciation. Sometimes he can’t help but let her dote on him this way, let her coo and rub every bit of her devotion into him.

There’s weight on his ass as she shifts above him, her arms stretch upwards on his back and make deep, rhythmic strokes against all the places she knows he’s most tense. “Maybe we need to loosen each other up?” she asks in his ear. Her breath is hot, filled with desire.

“Oh, babe, I don’t know,” he says even though he would very much like to please her. “I’m kinda tired. Aren’t you?”

Lup doesn’t stop her rub-down. Instead, she remains in quiet thought. Her hands drift up and down his sides now, dig into the softness of his hips to make him groan.

“Then perhaps we could just uh—” Barry opens his eyes and turns enough to see her make a lewd gesture with her hand.

He raises his eyebrows. That wasn’t an _awful_ idea. In fact, the thought of watching his wife pleasure herself in front of him made him more interested despite being bone-tired.

She leans down to his ear again and says, “Just a little jerk and then we can take a nap.”

They waste no time in taking off their clothes since they sleep nude most of the time anyway, and since the acquisition of their new home Barry finds an entirely new freedom in nakedness that he could not previously enjoy.

He watches Lup shimmy up to her knees in the covers and give him a mischievous grin. When she leans toward him to catch his lips with hers, light from a break in the curtains catches on the jewel that dangles between her perky breasts. It's a gift from him from Cycle 62 that she always wears. Barry feels himself harden. 

Lup’s smile is soft as her knuckles brush his thigh. “Need a little help?” she asks with a sweet mouth against his shoulder.

 “You just keep doin’ what you’re doin’, babe,” he says as he tries not to sound embarrassed for not getting it up quicker.

Lup herself is already standing at attention as it were. Her erect clit rests against her and she hums before she leans back against their mountain of pillows. She shows little interest in caressing anything that isn’t between her legs, though, she does stop for just a moment to tweak her nipples. The show is mostly for Barry’s benefit and he appreciates it.

His eyes follow her every move—watches her blonde hair spill around her as she pushes further into the bed, watches her hand drift to her groin. Her clit is like everything else about her—lithe, strong, beautiful—and Barry has to stop himself from saying, _to hell with this_ and just devoting his mouth to her.

She usually likes a harder pace, but right now she lets her hand make long passes over herself. Angular hipbones meet elegant wrists, and her mouth falls open in a soft sigh. She glances up at him through thick, fanned eyelashes and says, “B-Bare Bear, this is for you, too, y’know?”

Barry’s definitely hard now and takes a moment to collect himself as he settles beside her. The sultry look she gives tells him that her thoughts are along the same lines as his. They’re both fighting the urge to take each other’s hips in their hands, flip each other around, and start sucking.

Barry shifts toward her on his side—a more open, vulnerable position that leaves nothing to the imagination because Lup likes a show herself. He’s never been one to expose himself in such a way. With Lup, though, after so many years together, so many times they’ve held one another, he knows she’s as infatuated with his body as he is with hers.

The ache of the day almost dissipates the moment Barry, at last, touches himself. He thinks he hears her gasp along with him as he squeezes the base.

It’s not the same as when Lup does it. It’s pleasurable, sure, but her hands are firm yet soft, and textured by the callouses formed by her violin as well as the occasional burn. They are hers.

Lup picks up her pace. Unsurprising. She has fun getting there, but she thrives in that moment of completion when release overtakes her.

The strokes are still long, but fast. And always with her left-hand despite being right-handed herself. “The Chaotic Jerk” she calls it. Gods! She is ridiculous and wild and so, _so_ lovely in all things. Especially here. Splayed next to him and writhing.

She scoots closer, rests her forehead on his shoulder. “Mmmm. . .Barry,” she gasps and he can _hear_ her hand start to rub with more fury.

He kisses her then, unable to keep away from her any longer as he continues his own ministrations. Her other hand digs into his shoulder as he says, “Come on, Lup. Come on, baby, finish for me.”

Lup’s eyes go wide, her hips stutter against her hand and she cries out—high-pitched and needy—into the crook of his neck. She fucks herself hard and quick. It doesn’t take much more for her to throw her head back and say his name like a powerful and dirty spell on her lips.

Barry watches her spill out over her hand, their stomachs, the bed and is amazed he has the privilege to watch this Elf woman come apart in front of him. His own climax, however, is still out of reach.

Lup basks a moment, continues to roll her body in waves as she goes limp, before her hand covers his. They move together now in this space that is half masturbatory and half the most wonderful handjob Barry has ever received.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he groans, gaze focused between them. He cannot bring himself to look into her deep brown eyes. Not when he’s taken so long to get off already.

Her breath is in his ear again. That heat and the friction of their hands is _so fucking good_ —

“Did you like that, Barry? The mess I made?” her voice is a cat that coaxes a mouse from under a piece of furniture. His eyes flutter closed at the sound.

“Wanna know what I was thinking of?”

He pants heavy, his hand pulls harder and if she keeps it up like that. . .

“Well?”

“L-Lup!”

“Cash, grass or ass, Barry. No one rides for free.”

“ _Shit_. Y-yes, yes, tell me.”

There’s a smile in what she says next and it’s wicked: “I was thinking about how fucking hot you are when you beat off to me.”

And now Barry is the one that overflows, jerks his hips up to their hands, and moans. All there is, is Lup—how warm she is against him right now and her encouragement; how she surrounds him with the floral scent of her shampoo; how all of these things (her voice, her skin, her _love)_ envelop him in orgasm. Even in the exhaustion and aftermath there is only Lup. He falls back, boneless and spent. Her name is a soft mutter in the air.

He barely notices her soft kisses and presses to his stomach, hands, thighs. They’re pleasant, but only the background of a much larger release he still revels in. He snaps to when he feels the blankets come over them.

“W-wait!” he says as he realizes he never heard her mutter a cantrip. “Where’s the mess?”

She doesn’t miss a single second when she wipes her very messy hand on his cheek. “On your face, goofus,” she laughs as if she’s waited an eternity just to do it.

Barry only stares, wide eyed and reaches up to his cheek with his thumb. Well, she’s not, _wrong_. “So it would seem,” he says and joins her in laughter.


End file.
